


The Happy House

by setmynameinhighlights



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band), One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, Anal Sex, Gen, HIV/AIDS, M/M, Prostitution, Public Sex, Sex, Sex Club, Sick!Harry, blowjob, femme!michael, i watched dallas buyers club ok, this has some fluff but also has some major topics, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-17
Updated: 2014-03-30
Packaged: 2018-01-16 02:25:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1328458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/setmynameinhighlights/pseuds/setmynameinhighlights
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You have HIV."</p><p>Those were basically the words that Harry had formed in his brain that were functionally proving to be the end of his world. It was just a one-night thing. But now, it's become his life. </p><p>a three part fic where harry contracts HIV, lives with his transitioning transgender best friend, and ends up moving to a house where he meets the love of his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> i would use this as extreme caution if this is a trigger for you.
> 
> i got inspired watching dallas buyers club, as you could probably tell, and this just kind of came out of me. i hope you enjoy it :) xx

**two weeks prior. february 14th, 2013.**

_"_ _Fuck, Harry, yeah-- oh, fuck, god, come on, let me fuck you harder," It would have been easier if they weren't pushed up against a brick wall in an alley behind the club. It wasn't ideal, no, and Harry definitely felt the dirtiest he ever had. This wasn't who he was, but he was desperate, and desperate times called for desperate measures. His hands were hurting from being pushed against the wall and he felt his dick hitting the hardness of the brick, scraping it harshly from time to time,  making him cry out from pain. He continued to back into the male friend he had picked up, knowing that he needed to please him before he would be able to leave._

_Both of them had their pants around their ankles, Harry's briefs were hugging his thighs. Almost instantly, he felt the ooze running through him, the sound of pleasure, and a mouth biting at his shoulder painfully._

_"Yeah, Harry, so fucking pretty, huh?" The man was rough with him, and he wasn't sure if it was something he liked. Of course, he knew going into this that it wasn't going to all be rainbows and butterflies-- it never was.  And now that there was cum dripping out of him and down his leg, he wasn't sure about anything anymore. This was stupid, and he felt the precautions only seconds after. Harry wasn't much more than a vocal sex doll, at this point. Bent over all exposed in some dark alley wasn't how Harry wanted to live his life, but this was the reality. He needed money._

_"Oh god," Harry mumbled out, his hand shaking as he reached around to feel the stickiness leaking from him. He couldn't cry, not now. He couldn't let the man know that he was scared, because that wouldn't pay well at all._

_The man forced Harry to his knees again, scraping them up on the pavement as he stuck his dick right into the warm dryness that was Harry's mouth. There wasn't much there to lubricate it, but it tasted like the man-- sweaty and worthless-- as Harry licked everything off of it, making sure to show a bit of  cum on his lips like the man had asked him to do. If the customer asked, Harry did it. That's how it was, and how it would always be because he was the fucking_ hooker _. Yeah, Harry was a hooker and it sucked, but he had to pay rent and living like this helped him get the money then, so he had the money available whenever he'd need it. Bills approached fast, and rent wasn't cheap._

 _There wasn't any doubt in his mind about his decision that night,  he needed to do what he needed to do. This was how he was going to make money, and it was how he needed to pay off everything._ _Harry knew what his customers wanted, and if it was this, than he was happy._

_The man pulled Harry up by the arms, Harry squirming at the feeling because he was in a little pain as he laid against the wall._

_"How much?" The man said, pulling up his jeans and buttoning them. It was quite sad to know that Harry had seen this man at a grocery store with his family before. He was around forty, and Harry didn't know his story, but he came to the gay bar quite often and looked at Harry quite a lot. They lived in a small town, and it was quite impossible not to see everyone before. Harry thought about it for a second, remembering all they had done._

_"Blowjob, sex without a condom, you came in me, I sucked you off afterwards... around $550." Harry tried to ignore the fact that he was leaking again, and closed his eyes in hopes that it would just clear out before he got fully dressed. He was backed against the wall, his fingers twitching for a cigarette._

_"Are you fucking kidding?" The man obviously wasn't going to deny it, seeing as he looked through his hundreds, getting five out and handing them to the boy. "Here, I only have $500."_

_Harry saw the money in the man's wallet before he snatched the $500, and scoffed. "Give me that twenty, too." The man harshly glared at Harry, throwing the twenty at his chest and holding it there, before placing his wallet back in his jeans and leaning to kiss Harry goodnight. Harry looked like shit, honestly, but the man grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled him close._

_"You're beautiful, Harry." He murmured, kissing at the cum-tasting lips that were large and definitely Harry's best feature. The man seemed sad, however, when he pulled away. Almost like he had hurt something or someone, and Harry felt little-- he felt like he was cared for for a brief second, even though that second didn't last very long. Someone was wanting to take care of Harry for a minute. "I'm sorry you're here."_

_Harry didn't know how to respond, so he didn't. He just nodded, lifting his briefs on his hips again and gently pulled his jeans up as well, even though they were extremely tight on his legs. It didn't matter._

**present. february 28th, 2013.**

Harry had honestly never been that sick. It felt like he was on the verge of dying, and it probably didn't help the fact that Michael kept the temperature down so low that he could see his breath sometimes. But it was worse than that. He couldn't move half of the time, and the other half meant small movements to the fridge to get something to eat or something to drink. That only made him nauseous. The only reasonable thing to do was to go to the doctor, but not having any health care really sucked ass. 

"Harry, do we have anymore laundry detergent?" Michael bellowed, wearing his cute little shorts that he did, while he walked into the room. They were denim, as usual, but had cute patches pockets that were many different patterns. It depended on the day and what he was feeling, but Harry enjoyed looking at him quite a lot. His head was wrapped with a scarf, the cute kind that left a little fringe in the front of his face, and a deep-v neck shirt that made the whole outfit flat out adorable. Of course, he paired it off with a pair of knee-high socks and cute little booties that Harry smiled over. They had pandas on them. 

"Um, look in the closet there." He looked at Michael, smiling as he looked away from the fridge. "If it's not in there, then you're going to have to go down to the store and get some." 

Michael scoffed as he looked into the closet and couldn't find any. "Shoot," He whined, closing the cabinet again and walking around to find his bag. "Do you want to come down with me?" He stopped in front of the mirror to reapply the lipstick he had been wearing, it wasn't an extreme color, but just very pretty and naturally pink. Harry loved that about Michael because Michael was honestly happy with the situation he was in. He had someone to love him and care for him, and that's just what Harry had wanted for so long. 

Living with a transsexual was hard sometimes, but it wasn't anything that he couldn't handle. Of course, Michael was still trying to discover who he was and how to approach life, but Harry was very willing to help him out with whatever he needed. He remembered the conversation very well, they were living together for a while before he ever said anything, but Harry got an idea from all the makeup that was starting to pile in the bathroom. Along with the Forever 21 and Charlotte Russe bags that were accumulating in their house. It was fine, and Harry didn't mind it. Michael was his own person, and didn't care what anyone thought of him. It must have been why Michael had had a boyfriend for so long then. Almost two years, apparently. 

Michael had Ashton, and Ashton took care of Michael. He would offer many times for Michael to move in with him, but would always decline because he liked being with Harry. He ultimately knew that Harry wouldn't be able to live on his own with the money situation, and that made the boy worry quite a lot. Michael promised he'd stick to Harry for however long he needed-- Harry was always there for him, and always would be. Especially through his transitioning and transsexual discovery. Harry never judged him once, and that was all that mattered to him. Michael was his equal, and that was that. 

"No, you go ahead, I'll be fine." Harry nodded, smiling a bit. "But when you're down there, can you get me some soup or something?" He wrapped up in a blanket over his shoulders before watching Michael reapply all of the makeup that he had already put on; his purse almost bigger than his body. "Shit, you already have a boyfriend, do you really need to get all glammed up to go to the store?" He laughed a little, coughing when it got stuck in his throat. 

Michael rolled his eyes before placing the black eyeliner pencil in his bag and opening the door. "Never know when I'm going to need another, man, Harold." And with that, the door shut and Harry heard this sound in his ears. 

It wasn't a sound that was normal, because he had never heard it before. It was this harsh ringing that made him shut his eyes to try to cope with it. It wasn't hurting, it was just annoying him to no end. 

But he couldn't walk hardly anymore as his legs began to feel like complete gel. He held onto the counter in the kitchen before the ringing got almost too much and he fell to the floor.

Unconscious. 

He laid there until Michael got back and called 911. 

**two days later. march 2nd, 2013.**

There hadn't been much going on in the hospital, and that was for sure. No one was around, and Harry just wanted to pull the IV right out of his arm, but he couldn't. He didn't have the stomach for that, nor did he know why he fainted in the first place. No one was telling him anything, which got on his nerves quite a lot. It might have been the nerves, or it might have been the fact that he was just incredible  _nervous_. It didn't make him less prone to sit around and wait for anything, though. That made it worse, and made him want to just walk out of the hospital altogether. Hospitals made him sick.

 _"Only a few more tests, Mr. Styles."  
_ _"We'll be right with you, Mr. Styles."_  
"A lemonade while you wait, Mr. Styles?"

It was almost too much for him to handle, and he just laid there with complete disaster on his face until someone came into the room. There were two people, actually, a man and a woman. The woman looked more like a nurse, and she was holding a few papers and brochures. Harry sat up in his bed, wondering where Michael had gone off to. He figured that he would still be in the hospital, or at least hoped he would. 

"Hello, Mr. Styles," The doctor smiled gently. "I'm Dr. Thomas." 

"Call me Harry." He said, pushing his hair to one side like it had been. He was wearing a hospital gown with the IV in his arm, and he felt like he could honestly puke from the looks on their faces. They looked worried, and that worried Harry. 

"Right, Harry," Dr. Thomas looked over his paperwork and nodded a little, almost like he didn't know where to start. "We did some blood work, and we fond something there that we aren't sure if you were aware of or not." Harry looked from the doctor to the nurse and back again. He didn't say anything. "Have you been engaging in any type of unsafe sexual activity?" 

Harry froze a little bit, knowing he had but just kind of shrugged. "I mean, yeah, once or twice. I don't know." His voice was soft, scared of what was going to happen. Was he dying because he had unsafe sex  _one_ time? Really? 

"Harry, we got your test results back and it seems that you have contracted the virus called HIV. We brought your test results and a few brochures to let you understand what these all mean. If you have any questions, we're very eager to help you. Do you have family or friends you need to contact?" 

Harry didn't know  how to let any of this sink in because he had heard of HIV before, but wasn't exactly sure what it was. He knew it was a sexually transmitted disease, but out of everyone in the world, was it really favorable to say that he would get it? Was this the end for him? He was only twenty years old and was going to have to deal with this himself, and he was honestly scared. But for now, he was numb-- he didn't know what else to say. 

There wasn't any family, none. His mom was a crack addict, and he never knew his dad. Why did people think he was on the streets, anyways? All he had was his sister who lived in Ireland with her husband and their daughter. That was it. She wouldn't give a single fuck about him if she tried.

"I-I, um," He paused, looking at the test results and brochures he was given. This was all to make him feel a little bit better, but it wasn't. It was overwhelming him more than anything. "I think I need... some air." 

"Mr. Styles, we encourage that you stay here so we are able to make you more comfortable." Harry wasn't into the whole 'babying' aspect of this situation. He didn't want anyone to feel bad for him when this was his mistake, and he knew that.

The idea of HIV had never come to mind because it wasn't something that anyone ever talked about. No one ever talked about how awful it was or that it was  _real_. He had never known anyone to get the virus, and it all just seemed like a myth until now. Harry wasn't sure what else he could do, but he definitely didn't want to sit in the hospital bed and die. That's not how he wanted his life to end up, and this was definitely not going to stop him. 

"No, I'm... I'm not going to stay here. I want to be checked out. I just want to go home and collect my thoughts." The nurse obliged to his wants, taking out the IV and letting him get up from the bed. He felt a little wobbly, so he sat back down and looked at the brochures, acting like he was alright. There was so much he didn't know from just reading the few parts of it. "Hey, Doc," He said quietly after the nurse had left to grab his clothes. The doctor sat on the bed next to him. It was a little intimidating, but comforted him for the time being. "Am I going to die?" He asked. 

The answer was almost obvious, he would at some point. But there were many things to help control HIV from spreading to AIDS, especially now. But that didn't mean it couldn't happen. 

"Listen, Harry," He said, keeping his voice hushed as he sighed gently. "We see kids like you come in more than we'd like to. We don't like seeing you guys in this situation that you can't get out of. I get it, you're scared and don't know where to go. You made a mistake with someone-- I don't know your situation or how you even contracted this, but I can tell you right now that I'm almost positive that you're going to be okay. There are many tests out right now to find a cure, and you're young. Stay healthy and keep yourself from drugs or any types of sexual contact unless you're being safe. That's what condoms are used for. It's all in that handout, and let me tell you, you need to be safe. Any direct contact with your blood can infect someone with this disease, and I don't want you to think you can't pass it on to someone else." 

He hadn't noticed he was crying until he lifted his hand to his face and wiped away the tear. 

"I-I'm just-- I don't wanna die," Harry's lip quivered gently, feeling like he had lost a war. He wasn't ready for this to end. His life had just began, and he was going to try to get his life on track. But what was the point now? 

"There's a house, a little out of London," The doctor looked at him with heavy eyes as he nodded a bit. "It's a house for young boys like you who made that same mistake, and are trying to live through this disease. It's quite therapeutic, and I'd want you to look into it. You don't need to pay anything-- it's completely free of charge. You can rent a room, but it doesn't cost money. It just costs the fact that you're committed in helping someone else find what they need to find. Love, support, anything." The doctor placed his hand on Harry's knee before getting up and writing a little note on a the back of one of the brochures. 

"It's called The Happy House. I want to hear that you've visited." The doctor handed it back, the address to the house was on the back as he looked up and felt the warm smile coming from him. 

The doctor walked out of the room, and Harry felt the ultimate push of air out his chest. It was heavy and it was draining. But he felt like he just needed a really good cry. 

Which is exactly what happened. Face in his hands as he sobbed and sobbed, realizing how much he had truly fucked up. 


	2. Middle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry goes to The Happy House and meet his new housemates.

"We're so happy to have you here, Harry! You'll make a great addition, and I know it makes the other boy's happy when there are new boys in their situation. If you don't mind, I'd love to show you to your room." 

It had been about eight days since Harry had left the hospital, and of course, nothing had gone the way he planned it to. Well, it was all mostly sadness, so it kind of did go the way he planned, just not the way he wanted. The only thing he knew he had to do was to tell Michael, and Michael would finally get to move in with Ashton like he knew he had wanted to for some time. It had taken Harry a good three days to get the courage to tell him from when he got back, and when he finally felt up to it, he crumbled into a thousand pieces on the sofa. Michael helped to tape him back together with making him dinner (macaroni and cheese, because it was Harry's favorite) and telling him that he was worth it. He also wore those cute little jean shorts that Harry really enjoyed looking at. It also involved some cuddles on the couch while watching _CSI: Miami_ and Harry begging Michael to kiss him, but refused because he knew he had Ashton, and kissing Harry was quite a risk after the news he had been informed of just a little earlier. Harry didn't want to hurt Michael, and he knew that would hurt him more than anything. 

The entire night was ruined just in that moment because Harry was now reminded that he was just a piece of lonely shit that obviously never deserved love because now he could never _give_ it the way he would know how to. He was going to die, and that was on his mind heavily. So, Harry fell asleep, drunk, on his bed with the blankets pulled off. He woke up groggy and unable to really think straight, but after he got up and realized that Michael wasn't there, it made him feel just a little bit worse. 

He sat at his kitchen table and cried a little more, realizing he only had one other option-- it was one that he didn't want to take, but knew for the sake of himself, that he needed to. Packing a bag and leaving a note for Michael were the only things that he felt like he could do now. This wasn't what he had wanted, nor was it what he had planned for himself, but he left a note for his friend that he had hoped would make sense. The tear-stained paper may have also helped. It read: 

_mikey,_

_i'm sorry i let you down and i want to still be your friend if you'll let me because we've been through a lot together and i'm fucking sorry._

_please don't delete my number or anything and i'm sorry that i'm leaving but now you can be with ash and i'm really happy for you guys and everything._

_i left the address to let you know where i am, and i want you to visit me sometime. i'd really like that._

_love,_

_harry_

_p.s. thanks for the support. it means a lot to me that you didn't say 'ew' when i told you._

The letter was left on Michael's room door with just a single piece of tape. 

That's what led him to his position, sitting in a chair in an office with a pretty, tall blonde woman that seemed happy on the outside with her beautiful, white, big teeth and sparkling eyes that had long, black eyelashes. Harry wondered if it was all fake, and if she was going through the same things as him. He didn't want to be rude and ask, because he'd hate if someone asked him, so he ignored it and stood up from his spot. 

Harry had thought this would have looked more like a hospital and more... sickly. All of these people looked normal and healthy and Harry was very tall, he reckoned. With the scarf around his head, and his hair that he knew needed a cut, Harry followed the woman to a room that would suspect to be his. The only things he had with him was a bag of clothes that he had packed, and that was everything he had to his name-- that and a photo of his family that really didn't care about him. But it was something that was still important to him and something he wasn't going to leave at the apartment. 

From looking around, Harry noticed the amount of young boys, mostly his age, who were watching TV in lounge areas and cooking in the kitchen and mostly just messing about. He felt a little uncomfortable, and not really wanting to share his story or why he was here, but he was kind of happy to get a new surrounding and maybe talk to someone about what he was feeling. It would be good, he had to just keep telling himself that. 

"You're going to room with a boy named Louis. He's around your age and he's been a here a relatively long time." The woman turned to tell him, making Harry nod a little in response. Louis. Seemed okay to him. 

When they got to the room, it was a little small-- mostly like a college dorm room. There was a bed on either side of the wall and just a little space in between for them to walk. It was encouraged that they go out and talk in the main rooms and not spend as much time around their room, and Harry thought he would be okay with that. It might take off the pressure of being sick and put some good pressure on him. Some fun times to remember with hopefully so new faces and friends. 

"I'll let you unpack, Harry, and maybe sort yourself out a little bit," The woman flipped her hair behind her neck, and smiled. She only had a pair of brown pants and a green long sleeve top to match, as she smiled a little bit and hopefully gave some reassurance. She was lovely, and it gave him quite an emotional boost from the time that he had been here. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name?" Harry set his things on the bed that didn't seem to be claimed as he looked at the woman who was leaving him. 

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't even introduce myself! I'm Perrie," She smiled, her pink lips were very prominent and pretty and Harry appreciated her for keeping them so nice. "I'll see you later, alright? We're having a big meeting in about an hour. There's a few newbies here, you included, and you can maybe meet some people. It'll be fun and we'll have dinner made and everything. I'll let you shower or get ready." With a little smile, she was out the door and walking back down the hall. The house was quite large, and Harry would have to say that there were a good ten room, some bigger than others, and he knew that there was a basement as well that had been keeping a few beds and rooms. It was clean and lovely, and it smelled fresh, which was very nice and appreciated. 

Harry didn't need a shower since he had done so that morning before leaving. Instead, he changed out of his plaid shirt, which was very faded and looked too worn in for meeting new people, and changed into a plain black shirt. He changed the scarf on his head to something less noticeable, and into the only pair of jeans that he owned, along with his brown boots that were starting to fade, as well. Harry didn't care so much about fashion, and it was clear, but he wasn't going to let himself look god-awful before meeting new people and their own first impressions. 

First impressions were important to Harry, and he knew that was what kept everyone's opinions on each other for the next few times they would meet. 

After changing, he sat on his bed for a few moments and tried to get his head wrapped around this idea. Here he was, sitting on a bed in a house that was specifically made for HIV patients to feel comfortable and loved, and he was actually one of them. It made him a little teary, but he started to hear people walk down the hallway, he knew that it was time for the meeting to get started. It wasn't that he was scared, because he wasn't. He just didn't know what he was going to say or how he was going to say it if they made him talk. It was kind of overwhelming for him to share something like that when he had never gotten a change to be vulnerable with his feelings, but vulnerable with his  _body_ and that was his only escape from it all. 

Harry shut the room door on his way out and put his hands in his pockets as he bit his lip and started to move downstairs. There had to be around fifteen to twenty boys already in the living areas, a few girls were there as well, and it kind of shook Harry a bit. He felt out of place, like he had no one around to talk to, so he just made himself look busy as he walked into the kitchen to find that there were bowls of food everywhere. He decided to take a few things in his hands-- a few almonds, perhaps to hold him over. 

It was a beautiful home, regardless, and Harry was very into appreciating everything that was starting to go into the house. There were lots of pictures everywhere, mostly Polaroid camera shots that were just stuck on walls of everyone having a good time and showing smiles that Harry was quite surprised to see. It was a bit morbid, he thought, to see everyone so happy in such a saddening environment. Everyone was  _dying_ and he wasn't sure how they could all just shut that out and think that it was okay to have this disease. 

"C'mon, it's time for group." Harry noticed the most ravishing young boy he had ever seen smile at him as he felt like he was going to choke on the almond he was nibbling on. The boy had grabbed a hold of his arm and pulled him to the living room where they were all seated around, in a circle. There weren't chairs, but some were seated on the couch, some on the floor, and some on random chairs around the room. 

The boy pulled him over to a spot on the floor near the door that had rain falling down on it, but quietly so he could hear the other people starting to talk. The sun was starting to fall as well, and he could tell that he was in all honesty starting to get the smallest bit homesick, even though he had been there for only a good two hours. He missed Michael and he missed being comfortable in himself, and this wasn't how he felt at the moment. 

"So, I'm going to start everyone off," The room got quiet from all the chitter-chatter, and Harry noticed the blonde girl he had talked to earlier. She was pretty, and Harry liked looking at her quite a bit. She waved a little bit, "I'm Perrie. I'm twenty-one, and I'm diagnosed with HIV." She shrugged a little, bit still smiling as Harry looked around the room at a few people who were looking at her. 

"So, my story begins when I was nineteen and thought I was in love with someone," Her eyes moved to Harry, smiling a little as they made eye contact, but Harry looked down to break it. "We had sex, and I wasn't as in love as I thought. We didn't communicate enough for me to know that he wasn't what I thought he would end up being. We still held secrets from each other, and for the longest time, I felt like someone had just taken my entire life from me in a few minutes of my time. The few minutes of pleasurable sex that were unsafe, and unprotected were life changing, and now, looking at all of you," Harry noticed her start to tear up, and found the resistance to look at her for comfort and to know that he did care. That's why he was here... he supposed. "I know that all of you have a similar story to mine. A simple, dumb mistake that you wish you could have taken back, and you can't. It's sad, really." 

There was a pitch of silence in the room, but it wasn't awkward or unnecessary, it was hopefully respectful towards Perrie and her thoughts on her mistakes and actions. Harry nodded a little bit as he held his knees closer to his chest. The next person started talking, and it led Harry's eyes to the boy next to her. He was dark featured, very handsome and healthy looking. His jaw was extremely chiseled and he had beautiful eyelashes that Harry could see from across the living room. 

"I'm, um, I'm Zayn. I'm new here." Harry sighed a bit of relief knowing that he wasn't the only new one here. "Um, I did something I'm not very proud of." His shrug seemed a little careless, which was quite opposing to Harry as he furrowed his brow and waited for the boy to continue speaking. "I took advantage of someone-- I used someone and I got my payback." Zayn's eyes looked towards the ground as he messed with his hands and fingers, obviously looking as though he was being judged by these people around him, and Harry knew he didn't want to feel that way. His stomach was churning from knowing he'd have to speak about it.

"She was only sixteen, and I was twenty-one. I'm twenty-three now and I'm living with HIV. It's alright, I guess. I don't feel like I'm dying or anything, but it's not getting any better, and I just-- fuck, I hate that people always think of me as the bad guy because I'm not. I had a moment of weakness and I failed. I'm kind of sorting my life out right now." He nodded a few times, and Harry saw people around the room smile. They gave him the same respect as they gave Perrie, and he was quite impressed with it. 

A few others went-- a boy named Niall, who was only eighteen. He had only been there a few weeks. He was taken advantage  _of_  but he didn't show any signs of remorse towards Zayn, which was nice to see. Zayn looked a little uncomfortable, but Niall assured him that he didn't find any badness in him, and they would most likely be good mates. A boy named Calum was there, as well. He had been born with the disease from a mother who hadn't been careful herself, and had gotten pregnant from the same man. It was okay, because he had to accept it from the moment of birth, which shouldn't have been too hard. He was only sixteen, but had found that his mother hadn't accepted him as her own anymore and left him many times. It was a little heartbreaking to think about, but Harry knew the boy was only looking for support, and that was something Harry was willing to give at any moment he could. There was also another girl, her name was Jasey Rae and she loved flowers and spring time, and Harry found it quite adorable that she would even mention the things that brought her happiness-- it wasn't the happiest environment, but she made it all worth listening to. 

Listening to these stories made him feel more comfortable and vulnerable about his situation. It had finally gotten to his turn, and he wasn't sure what he was ready to say, so he just went for it. 

"Hi, I'm Harry," He bit his lip, his voice a little shaky as he held his knees close to his chest for comfort and an idea of closure to himself. "I'm twenty years old, and I," He shrugged his shoulders, laughing a little bit out of sadness and pity. "I'm a fucking prostitute. I use my body for money, and it's how I've made my income for the past two years. I live with my friend Michael, and together we're able to make enough money to pay the rent. It's alright, I suppose."

Harry licked at his lips and started to hear the rain come down a little harder, but it didn't distract him, really. He just kind of went on with his thoughts. "I didn't really know what HIV was, honestly. I mean, I understood it, but I never really knew it had this kind of... community base. I don't know what I'm doing with my life, really, and I just think I need a change or scenery and to figure out how I'm going to live the rest of my life. I wanted to fall in love some time, I guess. Maybe get my feet on the ground and really start to settle down at some point. I guess that's not going to happen, though. I don't know." He looked at the ground again, focusing his eyes on a piece of carpet before switching his mouth to the side and sighing lightly through his nose. Everyone was looking at him, and he didn't want to look at their pitiful faces shining over him, if they even felt pity towards him. 

"Just because you have HIV doesn't mean you're destined for a life of complete failure and loss. You can still live a normal life. I'm almost positive you'll be completely fine." The voice sounded a bit familiar and extremely close, and when Harry realized it was the boy next to him, he felt a sudden shoot of pain and relief all at the same time. 

The boy had the brightest blue eyes he had ever seen, and the fringed hair was falling on his shoulders. It was quite long, he reckoned, but he enjoyed looking at it's messy qualities and he couldn't help but stare. The boy was happy and had a sense of life about him that was thrilling to Harry in the slightest. 

"I'm Louis, I'm twenty-one, and I had sex one time in a bar bathroom." The boy smiled when he said it, almost like it was just something to rub off his shoulders and completely ignore the existence of. "It was really fun, I was drunk, and I enjoyed it. There's nothing wrong with being in this position-- sure, we all made some sort of mistake and were at the wrong place with the wrong people. But what are we going to do? Sit around and feel sorry for ourselves? Of course we all need support  because it can get tough physically and emotionally, but we can't just sit here and be sad. Especially the ones who have a future." 

Harry swore he felt Louis look at him when he said it, but he was too busy staring at the ground to notice.

Harry also swore he  _didn't_ smile.

+

"So, is it Harry or Harold?" 

They were back in their room now, Louis laying on his bed while clipping his fingers nails, and Harry was almost scared that the beds were so close that one might fling on him. He laid on his bed, his back against the wall as he fiddled his thumbs and held his phone to see if Michael would text him. It was almost time for him to come home from work, and he was scared of what the boy would say to him or if he'd hate him. It didn't help that he just hadn't  _heard_ from him. 

"It's Harry." 

The brunette looked up from clipping and nodded just a bit before going back to what he was doing. The room was silent, and Harry wanted to say something but he wasn't social enough for that, and he couldn't really think of anything to say. He was thankful the other boy was very social. 

"When you say prostitute--" 

"Yeah, a gay one. I paid for sex. Not a stripper where I tease. I went full out." Harry didn't look at the boy when he cut him off, but he didn't want to sound rude, so he just kind of smiled at him like it was nonchalant. Louis seemed to just kind of want to feel out Harry first, and he was okay with it for now. They were room mates after all, and he wanted to do the same thing, but Louis was hogging conversation at the moment. 

"Oh, so, did you-- was it from topping?" 

Harry smiled just a little. 

"I'm strictly bottom." Harry's smile turned larger, and it made him blush a blush that he had honestly never had before. Harry never  _blushed_ because he was never really embarrassed. Nothing embarrassed him, but Louis was starting to make him really happy and red. 

The blue-eyed boy rolled his eyes, and shook his head. "You're a bad prostitute, I tell you that. You always let the customer choose!" The joking tone coming from his voice made Harry laugh a little bit, and he rolled his eyes own. 

Louis had gotten up to go to his dresser, and Harry felt a sting in his chest as he looked at the boys figure and overall being. He was shorter, a good four inches shorter than Harry was, if not more. He was definitely stockier and had an ass on him that Harry could land a plane on. It was all so lovely in the sweatpants attire that he was wearing, and Harry wished he could have touched him a little bit. But it was all just in the eyes now, and he was okay with that. Sex needed to be the last thing on his mind, but he couldn't help but think about the boy and the curves he entailed. 

"Mind hiding your eyes with your scarf? I need to change my shirt." 

Harry obliged, holding the scarf over his eyes, but little did Louis know that Harry could still practically see through it. It was just a thin layer of fabric, however. 

Or maybe that's what Louis wanted. However it was, Louis changed his shirt and Harry could see every practical muscles in his back as he stood by the dresser and found a tank top instead. It was honestly beautiful, and Harry didn't want to show any emotion to his face because he was afraid he'd be caught red-handed. 

"So, what happened to the boy who was last in here?" Harry kept his eyes hidden as he watched Louis' expression change from subtly emotionless to sad in a mere few seconds after asking the question. His scarf was taken off when he heard the dresser shut and Louis jump into bed, covering his body in the sheets. 

"AIDS caught up to him and he died in his sleep. I found him." 

The words scared Harry because he was sleeping in the  _same_ bed someone died in, number one, and number two... that could eventually be his own fate. He wasn't sure he liked the sound of that. Louis didn't seem to want to talk about it much, so Harry made it so they didn't have to. He nodded in response to the question, and just smiled faintly at the pretty boy beside him.

"I'm sorry to hear that." He said quietly, letting the boy know he was truly sorry. No one deserved that, especially when they were the ones to find them in such an awful position. Harry felt bad even asking now because he didn't want to see such a pretty boy frown. Louis didn't look good in a frown. 

"It's okay. It happens, you know? Death, I mean." Louis shrugged, turning to face Harry and look a him from his bed. "You know, it's weird because you feel so insignificant before you come here. You feel like you're so... worthless and like you're just another piece of matter taking up oxygen and space on the world. You're not doing anything to benefit the world, and it's really, really scary." The boy looked sad, very sad. Harry didn't want to make him feel any worse than he thought he had, so he just smiled in his place. 

"You made me feel really good today. Told me I had a future and that I could do anything I wanted. I liked that."

Louis had the smile on his face now, and Harry  _swore_ he fell asleep with it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for being patient! because this is such a short story, i want to make sure i'm not putting out the chapters so soon, and i really wanted this to be good. so thanks for putting up with waiting, if you were waiting at all!
> 
> also, i know i made this a 3 part story, but i think i'm going to end it maybe start another story if you guys are interested!
> 
> xo
> 
> emily

**Author's Note:**

> hello! i hope you guys liked this. it's only part one, and i really want a good response to make me want to continue on with it :) 
> 
> thanks for reading! xx


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